You Will Leave Me
by xtechnicolordreamsx
Summary: And all Harry heard were the three simple words that came out of Hermione's mouth: 'He was raped.' HPDM
1. Prologue

**You will leave me. **

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, don't believe, don't wish to be sued.

**Summary**: And all Harry heard were the three simple words that came out of Hermione's mouth: 'He was raped.'

**A/N**: no flames please :D  
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_"Don't..." _

_Harry stopped in his tracks, the sound of the familiar voice he loved so much rooting him to the spot. His eyes were glued to the floor, hands in a fist, teeth clenched. He was fighting with himself, both fighting to ignore the voice, and fighting to go towards it. He was contemplating whether he should listen to what his heart was telling him; to stay._

_But couldn't turn back. Not now._

_"Harry..." The voice urged quietly, silently begging him to stay, to come back in the bed and hold him in his arms, as he always did. Every night. Always._

_He heard a shuffling noise as the man he loved got off of the bed-- _their _bed. Harry took a few more steps forwards, but stopped as if it was the hardest thing to do. _

_"Please," the other man begged, his voice as soft as silk. Just like a music box playing a sad, but all the while beautiful melody._

_"I can't, Dray. You know I can't," Harry murmured. He closed his eyes, gluing his eyelids together, hoping it would keep him from turning his head and looking back. Looking back and seeing his beautiful angel._

_"I- y, you promised, Harry. You said so. I-- you said you loved me-- " Draco looked at Harry's back, hoping he'd turn around, face him, kiss him-- Anything. A long silence filled the cold hallway. Even the wind held its own breath._

_"I love you." Draco whispered, the words hitting Harry like a million shards of glass delving into his chest, ripping his heart apart. He wanted to scream from the pain._

_"I-- Draco, you know I can't," Harry said, tears threatening to fall. His shoulders were shaking._

_"Har - "_

" - just don't," Harry cut, "Don't, Draco. I- we can't, and you, you of all people should know that."

_Draco's legs felt like they would give in from under him. He never loved anyone before. Harry knew that. No one, not even his own parents ever said they loved him. 'Love is a sign of weakness, Draco. If you love, then love will rip your heart apart.' His father would say. He always said that, and for the first time, Draco was starting to believe it._

_"You told me that you loved me..." Tears started gracefully flowing down Draco's pale cheeks, emitting a small sob from him; a sob that he couldn't stop from coming out._

_Harry heard both Draco's words and the sob as loud as if he were speaking through a microphone. Harry was racked with guilt. Guilt that would never leave him, forever scarring him and never to fade._

_"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry said, trying to keep his voice as cool as possible, trying to keep Draco from hearing how shaky it truly was. __He took a deep breath. Slowly, he turned his head. Harry wanted to see Draco again, just this one last time._

_The sight of his love crying tears that should never have been shed was tearing him apart. He wanted to run back to Draco, pull him in his arms and whisper soft words of comfort, lulling him to sleep._

_Draco's white-blond hair shone in the rays of the full moon, making it look like woven silk. His skin looked ghostly; a perfect shade of snow white. He was perfect, in every way possible. Even with the tears on his cheeks. He was Harry's and Harry's only._

_Shutting his eyes firmly, a single tear fell onto the ground as Harry uttered a small, and barely audible 'I love you,' before disappearing with a loud CRACK that resonated throughout the now empty hallway._

_The small blond fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. He hadn't heard the three words Harry uttered. Maybe his father had been right all along. If you love, then love will rip your heart apart._

_The only sounds now heard, were the quiet blowing of the wind, breezing its way past Draco's manor with a soft and sad whisper, along with the cries of the Malfoy._

_----_

That's it for the prologue ! XXD Chapter 1 is already posted, so if u wan me to put up the second chappie, I must have at LEAST 5 REVIEWS! 'Cause there's no point in writing a story tht no one likez. XO 

So, even if it sucked and was really, really short, please review! No flames please!

(Just click on the pretty little 'GO' button, and then, have a cookie!) XD


	2. Chapter 1

_WHEEEEEE!_ I wrote this chapter really fast, so please forgive any spelling errors you might come across.

Disclaimer: Don't believe, don't own, don't wish to be sued. Orz

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_--- NO FLAMES PLEASE!_

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Harry stood in front of the one place he thought never to see again; the manor that he and Draco once shared, the place where he and Draco were happy and in love together more then a year ago.

He'd left the blond to go for the final battle; a battle that no one but he and Lord Voldemort knew about. It was a private battle that none heard of. All thought the Boy-Who-Lived missing, whilst some even thought of him murdered.

Harry never told Draco, let alone the members of the Order, or Ron and Hermione about where he'd be going. He only told Draco that he couldn't love him anymore and that their love was merely a mirage and that he needed to go.

Deep in his heart, Harry wished for Draco not to believe that, and that Draco still loved and missed him as much as he did.

After weeks and weeks, which soon turned into months, which turned a year, Harry returned, although no one knew. He'd only returned now, his clothes still scratched, torn and bloody, as well as himself. Nearly all visible skin was red with dried blood, or was bruised or torn apart. Even his hair lay limp on his head, matted with blood and debris.

Wand still in his bloody hand, a small, hopeful smile was on his cracked and dry lips as he lifted his other hand, pressing on the doorbell.

His heart was pounding hard in his ribcage, making it even harder for him to breathe. His heart raced even more as he heard the sound of weary footsteps coming closer and closer to the door.

The door opened, but he found himself face to face with none other than Hermione Granger.

"H-hey 'Mione," Harry greeted, waving his sore arm rather pathetically.

"H-Harry? Is that you?" she asked incredulously. Her face lit up, but as Harry was gonna ask to come in, her look darkened into a scowl. "Tell the truth. Are you Harry?" He nodded, confused. Why was Hermione interrogating him like this?

"Prove it." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I can tell you exactly what Myrtle said when you turned into a cat in the second year." said Harry quietly, recalling the memory of his second year at Hogwarts. The memory that only he, Ron and Hermione knew. When Harry said these words, Hermione broke into tears. Whether they were tears of happiness or sadness, Harry didn't know.

"Oh, HARRY!" She threw herself onto him, not knowing she was causing him deep pain. She was crushing his ribs, of which two or three were already broken. He let out a pained moan, and Hermione jumped and backed off, tears falling down her now flushed cheeks.

"Oh Merlin, H-Harry. I can't believe it's you. Oh my God, we thought you were dead!" she sobbed, putting a hand to her mouth, the other one fanning herself.

Harry felt his stomach turn as guilt washed over him. He was about to open his mouth and ask about Draco, but Hermione cut him off.

"I- oh my, Well, come on in. We'd better get you washed up - ," she eyed his torn clothes, bloody skin and scratches. " - and _THEN!_" she said sharply, suddenly taking a strict and slightly scary tone, "You're gonna tell us ALL about what you were doing all this time." She said, jabbing him in the chest accusingly, causing Harry to emit another pained gasp.

She pulled him in the manor and closed the large black oak door behind them.

She led him up the familiar staircase up to the second floor, dropped him in the bathroom and brought him a loose black t-shirt with a pair of worn, although comfortable-looking track pants.

Giving her a small, thankful smile, Harry closed the door in between them, happy to finally be able to take a bath. He wanted to get the stench of blood off of him; the horrible marks of death upon his now tainted body.

He stripped his clothes and walked slowly to the full-length mirror beside the sink. He looked horrible.

On his chest were scars that looked like they were caused by whips. Blood stained nearly every piece of visible skin on him. His legs were bruised and cut in every corner, as were his arms.

He was thin; too thin to be considered healthy. His face was gaunt and was faint with a sickly yellowing color. He had a black eye, and his lips were dry and scratched; his bottom lip was torn in half, something he never really noticed until now.

His mane of dark hair was longer then it had been which was now brushing his pale shoulders. It was matted and tangled with dried blood.

Harry was ashamed of how he looked. What was once a handsome (although not as good-looking as Draco) man, with a slight tan, lean muscles, rippled chest, was now a beat up, skeletal-like being. Even his emerald green eyes had changed. They weren't the same eyes that were once filled with joy, love and happiness. They no longer shone with the same admiration whenever he looked at something. They were hollow; hollow, and void of emotion. They reminded him of _his_ eyes, and it disgusted him.

He tore his gaze off the mirror, and turned his head to look at the tub. A grim smile on his face, he turned on the tap, steam already rising in the air from the hot water that was now starting to fill the tub.

After a few minutes, he'd turned it off. The tub was already nearly filled to the rim.

He got in slowly and carefully, as not to accidentally burn himself with the steaming hot water. The water stung some of his cuts, but felt good all the same.

He allowed himself to sink in, and to forget everything around him. His tense and exhausted muscles were crying out in happiness as the warm water soothed them. Harry leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

Thoughts of him and Draco taking a bath together filled his brain. A sudden wave of guilt then filled him completely. He hated himself for all the pain he knew he caused his love.

He and Draco were happy together; so happy that Harry thought he was in heaven and didn't understand how he was blessed with such a beautiful angel.

Harry recalled all of the times he held Draco's smaller frame in his arms, pressing kisses over his body; showering him with love and passion. He could even faintly remember the feeling of Draco's soft, plump, ghostly pink lips over his. The taste of strawberries and the smell of roses coming back to him.

He remembered all of the times Draco had cried in Harry's comforting, strong arms. Harry missed rocking him to sleep, to make him feel better, and smile.

Draco's smile. Harry missed seeing it. He loved seeing Draco smile, knowing he was the reason he did so. He loved the way his pink lips twitched upwards, forming a beautiful, perfect angelic smile.

Tears started making their way down his cheeks. Harry regretted leaving him. Draco didn't even know the real reason he left. Harry was disgusted with himself. Sick of how he, the one person Draco loved the most, hurt him. It hurt so much. It was tearing him apart.

Ripping himself from his thoughts, Harry opened his eyes and reached for the bar of soap. He knew he needed it.

He rubbed the bar in his hands, making bubbles. He then ran his bubbly hand over his body, washing all of the dirt and blood away.

Some marks didn't feel like they were ready to go yet. Harry began to rub the soap vigorously against his skin, if not furiously, over a few blood marks which didn't want to fade. He rubbed on it so hard that his skin was starting to turn red. He kept on going, a few sobs coming from his mouth.

Harry kept on rubbing at his now very red skin, not knowing that the blood was already off. With a pained moan, he dropped the bar of soap into the tub, sinking all the way down.

The raven-haired man leaned his head against the wall once more. He was tainted. On his body was the blood of both innocent and guilty people. People that either he or Tom killed. It made his stomach churn.

Although the marks of blood were no longer visible, he knew they would never truly disappear; haunting him forever. No longer was he the 'Golden Boy' of Dumbledore's. No longer the pure boy he used to be. He spilled blood. Blood of many; both innocent and not.

Harry remembered the hoarse, ragged voices of them begging. Begging for him not to kill them. He remembered the bittersweet sound that was once music to his ears; the sound of Bellatrix Lestrange at his feet, begging not to be murdered.

Harry couldn't even remember how he had so easily, without batting an eyelash, killed her. Even though she was the reason Sirius died, he's murdered her while she was wandless and injured. An unfair match.

The inevitable sobs found their way out his throat. Harry was soon crying. He didn't even know why he was crying.

He took his face in his wet hands, trying to mute the ragged sobs. But did so in vain.

-

..Meh, I don't really like the bath scene. Orz. It seems retarded. anywayz, PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 2

YAY! I got five reviews! X3 I'm so happy! (yup. pathetic, I know. I only got 5 reviews, and I'm freaking out. XD)  
Anyways, here's the next chapter. Hope you like :D

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-- !Disclaimer: Don't believe, don't own, don't wish to be sued.

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"I can't believe you're alive."

"Neither can I, Hermione." Harry grinned. He was finally clean again. Hermione helped heal most of his wounds. She fixed all of his broken bones; his ribs included. Some cuts on his chest refused to go, so he now had several scars all over his torso - his back, especially. He no longer smelled like blood.

Hermione even cut his hair (Harry never knew she could do that, and she was actually very good at it.) so that it was now in a shaggy cut and curled up slightly at the bottom.

"So," she crossed her arms and sank back into the couch she was sitting on. "Tell me everything. Why you left, what you did, where you stayed and more importantly, why you _didn't tell any of us!_"

Harry flinched. He didn't really want to tell her anything. Especially about how he so easily killed the many people on the field. Despite what he didn't want to say, Harry opened his mouth and spoke quietly.

"It's a long story, Hermione."

She glared at him, her eyes saying 'you'd better tell me everything or else.' "We have a lot of time, Harry. Heck, we could even stay here for the rest of the week until you finish," she smirked.

Harry sighed. Hermione would never let him off this time.

"I, well, got a message from Wormtail one day," he started, seeing as he couldn't _not _tell her. "He said that Voldemort wanted me to come face him in a final battle somewhere in Scotland. He told me that if I don't go, he'd personally come here while I'm gone and kill," he took a deep breath. "Draco. I knew that he could've done that. He would've easily done that, along with killing everyone else in the order. You, Ron, Tonks, Fred, George and everyone else.

"I didn't want Draco to get hurt; let alone die, so I agreed. I had to, because even if he didn't offer to fight one-on-one, I'd one day be forced to face him alone. I couldn't tell any of you. When I had sent my reply to him, he - Wormtail, I mean - asked me to write on this special bit of parchment that works kind of like an unbreakable vow. If I agreed, I'd be somehow be forced to never to tell anyone, or else I'll die." He said simply.

Harry looked at Hermione, who was listening intently, with an emotionless gaze. Her brown eyes unreadable.

He took another deep breath, and continued.

"So for me, not telling any of you guys would be easy - no offence, Hermione." The bushy-haired girl shook her head as a sign that she wasn't offended, and motioned for him to continue. "But the hard thing for me was to tell Draco something - _anything _so that he'd think I couldn't be with him anymore. I, at first, couldn't believe that I'd be forced to leave him. It was the hardest for me to just _lie_ to him and you know, pretend that I was breaking up with him or something. Anyway, in the end, I'd decided to tell him that I just simply couldn't be with him anymore, because it'd put him in danger and all that shit. Please Hermione; I don't want to say the whole thing that I told Draco," he pleaded.

Hermione hesitated, but then said, "Alright Harry. I understand that it's hard for you to say this. Just, go on, tell me the rest," she finished with a small smile. Harry nodded at her gratefully, and continued.

"Wormtail owled me back a bit after. So enclosed in that letter was a coin - a portkey, as you probably guessed. So after I left Draco, I took some one my things and portkeyed to wherever he was, which, later, I'd found out was somewhere in Scotland. But don't I where exactly, because he never really specified it in the letter in the first place.

"Now the thing was, in the letter - the first letter - Voldemort said that we'd be alone. No Death Eaters, no Wormtail, no evil crazy, bloodthirsty creatures, but he lied. When I came there, the 'Voldie crew', as I call them, were there. The thing is that I had to fight each and every one of them. All at the same time. Voldemort wasn't there at the time, but _still_.

"The other thing was that the Death Eaters didn't come alone - no, Hermione, they didn't bring a Manticore or anything," he added quickly, seeing the look of shock on Hermione's face.

"They brought prisoners," he said. "Most of them were _muggles_. They thought that it's would be distracting for me to fight all of them at once, and also avoid hitting their prisoners. Hell, it was fucking screwed up. I- I," Harry broke off there. He couldn't continue anymore.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked gently. "I understand that you probably killed some of th - "

" - I DIDN'T ONLY KILL THEM, HERMIONE!" Harry cut off, screaming. The witch looked taken back. She didn't expect this kind of behavior from Harry.

"I _MURDERED_ THEM!" he sobbed. "Some of them were right in front of me, _begging to_ let them live. 'Please don't kill us, please! We eg of you!' that's what they said. THEY WERE BEGGING ME TO LET THEM LIVE, BUT I KILLED THEM ANYWAY!"

"Har - "

" - I'm just as bad as he is, Hermione," Harry whispered, his expression dark. "Just as bad..."

Hermione then scowled. How could Harry Potter, the boy who used to be optimistic and carefree, think he were as bad as Voldemort?

"Harry, I know you regret killing them, but you're not as bad as Voldemort is." Harry looked at her sullenly, his eyes red from crying.

"Hermione, I k-killed them," he hiccoughed. "Doesn't that make me sink to his level?"

"_HARRY JAMES POTTER_!" Harry jumped in his seat, surprised by the tone of her voice. "You are NOT as bad as Voldemort. No one can sink to- to _his_ level!" She excalimed. "Look at what he did compared to you, Harry," she said, almost screaming.

"He killed people. He killed them for no rea - " " - just like what I did!" Harry exclaimed, cutting her off.

"No, Harry, just shut up for a second. Ok?" she snapped. She was starting to lose her patience.

"He killed people, because he wanted power. He wanted to rid this world of Muggles, Muggle borns, Squibs and Half-Bloods. Do you really think that you'd stoop to his level? Look, you killed - Look at me!" she said, taking his chin in her hands and pushing his head her direction, forcing him to look at her.

"You killed people because you had to. And when you killed them, they probably did want to die!" She exclaimed, waving her arms around. Harry raised an eyebrow and sunk back into the armchair he was sitting in. "Voldemort probably tortured them for days, Harry. If you hadn't killed them, they'd probably suffer even more!"

Hermione gave him a grim smile. "And besides, Harry. You aren't as evil as he is. I know it."

"You r-really think so?" he sniffed. Hermione nodded and took him in her arms, hugging him lightly.

The way Harry was acting reminded her of a little, innocent kid.

They stayed in each others arms until Harry's sniffles and hiccoughs stopped.

Harry then remembered something. He pulled out of her arms and looked her in the eye, his emerald orbs suddenly taking a more serious light.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?" Hermione knew what he would ask. She knew that sooner or later, but mostly sooner, Harry would say those three words.

"Where is Draco?"

Hermione avoided his gaze. She stared at her hands, twiddling her thumbs together. She pretended to remember something, and said.

"Oh yeah, did you know that Neville's running for Minister? He's winning the votes!" She said, forcing a way too cheery tone in her voice.

"Oh yeah? Neat. Anyway, whe - "

" - and Ron and me are engaged." She smiled, though this time for real. She showed him her hand; on her fourth finger was a pretty golden band with a small diamond at the center of it. Harry grinned. He always knew they would end up together.

"I knew Ron would ask to marry you. He's been talking about it for years." Her face reddened slightly. "Oh yeah?" She asked, blushing even more. Harry nodded, grinning at her. Then he took on a slightly more serious face.

"Hermione, just answer me. Whe - "

" - Er... Neville and Ginny are engaged too. I think Gin's a bit too young, but hey, who's to stop anyone from true love?"

Harry began to get pissed - and worried.

"Ok, great. Yeah, I'll go congratulate them or something, but where is Dr - "

" - and also- "

"HERMIONE!" He snapped.

Hermione stared at her lap again, this time flinching at the tone in his voice.

"Why are you trying to avoid my question? Where. Is. Draco?"

Hermione didn't answer. Harry growled and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her back and forth, though careful not to hurt her.  
"Hermione, you're scaring me. Where's Draco? Did anything happen to him while I was gone?" She still didn't respond.

Harry was beginning to get worried. "Hermi - "

"H-he thought it was you," she whispered.

"Huh?" Harry asked quizzically, utterly confused.

Hermione finally raised her head, her eyes now brimming with tears. "I-- he thought it was y-you. He thought, h-he thought..." She burst into tears, throwing her arms around Harry's neck, sobbing onto his shirt. The dark-haired man was growing frantic. What happened to Draco?

"Hermione?"

He waited a few minutes as Hermione kept crying, her tears wetting Harry's T-shirt, though he didn't seem to care. He grew more and more worried by the second. She finally raised her head, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

She took a few shaky breathes, then said, "Draco, he-he thought it was you."

"He thought what was me!" Harry asked worriedly. "H-Hermione, what happened to Draco?"

She still didn't answer. Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "What happened, Hermione?" she refused to look into his eyes. "Tell me. Please, 'Mione, tell me," Harry said, voice breaking. Hermione took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"He was raped."

The words hit Harry like a ton of bricks. He laughed. "Y-you're kidding, right?" Hermione's face didn't change.

"Oh God..." Harry breathed. His heart was beating was too fast. His breathing quickened. "H-herm, 'mione. C-can't b, breathe..." He squeaked. His heart was ramming against his ribcage, constricting his airway. He couldn't breathe. He was panicking, and he knew it.

Harry only remembered seeing Hermione's worried expression until stars dancing before his eyes and he fell into the still of unconsciousness.

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TADAA! Hope you like the chapter :) Sorry if you think Hermione's a bit OOC. .

Oh, and sorry for the short chapter. Didn't have much time to write it. 'Twas my graduation last night. XXD

IM GONNA BE IN THE SEVENTH GRADE NEXT YEAR! WHOOHOOOO! Can't wait. I'm also excited for my b-day. (I know itz kinda far from now... but wtv) IM TURNING 13! WHOOHHOOO!

Nywayz, PLEASE REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 3

-- !Disclaimer: Don't believe, don't own, don't wish to be sued.

--

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Harry woke up with a start. He bolted upright and looked from side to side, trying to find out where he was. He found himself in a familiar room with cream walls, and a large comfy bed in which he was lying down in. He rubbed his eyes, and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"You're finally up." Harry whipped his head to the side and saw Hermione leaning against the door with her arms crossed. Her eyes were slightly puffy and red from crying, but other then that, she looked pretty normal.

"Hermione? Wait, what happened?" He asked his memory a bit fuzzy. He recalled talking to Hermione about the whole 'Going away to kill Voldie' ordeal, but then he didn't remember much.

"You had a panic attack." She stated flatly. "You hyperventilated, and passed out, so I levitated you here, and well, you've been sleeping for a while." She said with a bemused voice.

"Why'd I have a panic attack? I hadn't had one in years." said Harry, confused.

"You hyperventilated because I told you." she said quietly. Her brown eyes staring into nothing.

"Told me wha... Oh fuck." The memory suddenly came rushing back, the words Hermione had said ripping him to pieces. _He was raped. He was raped. He was raped. He was raped. _

Harry tried to block out the haunting speech that Hermione said, though it wasn't working. He could still hear her words as clear as day in his head, and it was scaring him.

Harry shook his head, the tears prickling in his eyes. "No, no. He, Draco couldn't have been r, r..." he trailed off, unable to say that horrible word. "It can't be." He whispered, voice shaking.

Hermione looked at him through sad brown eyes. She couldn't imagine how much it had hurt Harry, hearing that the man that he loved with such a passion being_ raped. _Hermione would never know the force of the impact of the words that Harry had only now heard.

She walked towards him slowly, sitting down on the bed and putting a comforting arm around his shoulder. Harry leaned his head on her arm, accepting the pity Hermione was giving him.

"Tell me how it happened." He said quietly, so quietly that Hermione had to strain her ears to hear properly.

She frowned. "Harry, are you sure? I mea - "

" - Please, 'Mione," Harry asked quietly, begging her. Her face fell. She didn't want to tell him about that. It would surely hurt him too much, but she understood how much this mattered to him, so she took a deep breath, and then started her sad tale.

"About two weeks after you'd left, Draco, well, he still very much loved you. Somehow he knew, he just, felt that what you said to him, he didn't tell us exactly what you told him though, wasn't true. He thought that you just had to go and leave for a while," she started, and Harry felt the slightest bit of happiness at those words, knowing that Draco didn't completely believe what he told him.

"For days he would stare out the window, hoping you'd come back, hoping he'd see you walking down the lane and into the Manor, just to see him.

"But then after a month passed, Draco started to lose hope," Hermione's face fell, as did Harry's.

"He barely ate, he didn't go out of his room, and the only times he did were when he had to go to the loo, or to take a bath. And a few more weeks after, he just stopped eating. He refused to let us feed him, but we just had to get something in his stomach or he'd die of hunger."

Harry's eyes watered and the guilt he felt earlier was beginning to grow and grow. He motioned for her to continue when she saw his face.

"We'd force this potion that Severus made, and it kinda worked as food. It contained all those vitamins and stuff, along with protein, calcium and yeah. The potion even made him full after he'd take it. But even if he took it, Draco continued to just lose weight and he became skin and bones. Nothing more then that." Hermione said grimly.

"But the thing is, Harry, about six months after you'd left, someone came in here. You came in here."

Harry's eyes widened. Someone had pretended to be him so they could abuse Draco. Anger started to build up inside of him. His fists and teeth were now clenched, and he was fighting to keep the tears in.

"'You just appeared here, one day. Draco saw this-this _imposter_, although at the time, he didn't know it wasn't you, and ran up to him." She stopped for a quick breath of air.

"The man," she continued, "The person, brought him to your room, and locked the door. We found out that he put very powerful wards around the door, so none of us could get in. But this guy was so into what he was doing to Draco, that he forgot to sound-proof it, which was a good thing for us.

"That day, Ron came in, while the guy was with Draco and overheard him screaming, begging for help. 'Harry, Harry stop!' that's what Ron said he heard. So, you know that Ron is a pretty skilled wizard, right?"

Harry nodded, but urged her to continue. Hermione understood his impatience.

She too, would act like him, should something like that ever happen to Ron, though she couldn't really imagine Ron being raped by someone in her head. She looked at him, and she imediately saw the look or worry, anger and sadness in his emerald green eyes. It was pretty much the feature that showed the most emotion on him right now.

"So Ron broke the wards and burst in, right before the man could… ejaculate," Hermione said, whispering the last word.

Harry let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Oh God… Y-you mean the bastard had his dick up Draco's arse!" Harry sputtered. Hermione nodded.

Harry's clenched fists were shaking violently. "Draco… He's mine. Not just some asshole's play toy. He's mine, all of him is mine," Harry nearly yelled, eyes narrowed.

"Ron stunned him." Hermione continued, ignoring Harry. "_Hard_. He went to Draco, firecalled all of us, and we apparated in right away. When I got in there, I took Draco, who was covered in bruises and scratches, in my arms, and spelled him to sleep, since he wouldn't have been good for anything else at the time. And as for the man, he used Polyjuice potion. But none of us knows how he got your hair."

"Wait, 'Mione, who was he?" Harry seethed. "I'm gonna go murder him. Slowly and painfully," He said, alraedy making up different torture scenarios in his head, almost thanking 'Ol Voldie for letting him see different ways to torture people, seeing as he thought that it would be useful in this situation.

Hermione laughed bitterly. "You'd not believe me if I told you. And you probably wouldn't even want to know." "

Well," Harry looked at her with hopeful eyes. "You could always bring me to the bastard's home."

"I, I can't, Harry…" she said, clutching the hem of her skirt nervously. "Y-you'd have to go to Azkaban and see him for yourself."

'_Oh yeah_,' Harry thought. '_The guy went to Azkaban. Well, obviously_.' "He deserved it," He said aloud. Hermione looked at him quizzically, a blank look on her face.

The Boy-Who-Lived coughed loudly, feeling his cheeks redden. "He deserved going to Azkaban, I mean." Harry said.

"If you really are bent on seeing him," Hermione started, "We could always go there now, seeing as its still daylight."

Harry looked at her, expression unreadable. "Y-you'd go there? With me?" He asked.

She nodded and smiled gently. "What are friends for?"

Harry felt his eyes watering up. With a sob, he pulled Hermione into his arms, hugging her fiercely.

"Thank you." he whispered in her bushy hair. Hermione smiled and pat his back.

"W-we can leave soon," Harry said quietly, wiping his eyes with his right hand. "But first," He looked at Hermione. "I want to see Draco." Hermione looked at him uncertainly. "I—are you sure?" Harry nodded and stood up, waiting for her to lead him to their room.

She sighed. She knew that it would come to this anyway. She too, stood up, and then motioned for him to follow her.

They both walked up a flight of stairs, into a cold, empty hallway that was once, and still was, very familiar to Harry.

They both stopped in front of a door, somewhere in the third floor. Hermione turned around to face him.

"Harry," she started. He turned and looked at her. "Just to tell you, well, if ever... Draco lashes out at you, or throws a fit, well, don't think it's because he doesn't love you or anything." she said. "It's because... well, you know."

Harry nodded. He put his hand on the cold, silver doorknob. He twisted it, but didn't enter yet.

"I'll wait right here." Hermione said reassuringly, with a small smile on her face.

---

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Harry pushed on the door, closed his eyes and walked in.

As soon as he entered the room, a shiver ran up his spine. He could hear his heart thundering against his ribcage so loudly as if it was right beside his ear.

The room was dimly lit; the only light coming from a small lamp beside the large bed.

Despite it still being light out, the room was so dark, cold and gloomy. The satin curtains were closed over each and every window, blocking out any light from entering the room.

Harry couldn't imagine that this was his bedroom. It used to be so full of color and happiness, and yet now it only contained sadness, grief and coldness.

He took small, quiet steps towards the bed; the silk curtains were closed. As soon as he was beside it, he took out a shaking hand and carefully gripped the soft fabric. He thought that he would go deaf from the loudness of his ramming heart.

He slowly, but carefully pushed the dark blue curtain away, revealing a small, thin figure prone in the bed.

Harry choked back a sob; Draco, who was still asleep, looked sick, so sick. His skin, which was always a healthy shade of milky white, was now a sickly, unhealthy yellow-ish transparent color. His usually well kept white-blonde hair was messy and greasy. It was uncared for. But what shocked Harry the most was his thin frame.

Draco was always skinny, but never to the point that his bones were practically jutting out.

His face was gaunt. He looked so fragile; as if he would instantly break into a thousand little pieces if Harry were to pull him into his arms.

Even though he was fighting to keep the tears in, they eventually came rushing out. A loud sob escaped his throat, and his hands were clenched tightly, as if to keep from doing something rash, like crying out in anger and sadness. He felt so guilty. If he didn't leave to go fight Ol' Voldie, this never would have happened, and Draco wouldn't have been...raped.

"Oh God," Harry breathed. "D-Draco..." He put a hand to Draco's cheek, rubbing his thumb delicately on the still-soft skin. It still felt like rose petals, and Harry smiled at that.

A soft groan emitted from Draco's small mouth. Harry immediately pulled away, even though deep inside, he didn't want to stay away from him. He took a small step back, only a few inches away from the bed. _Their _bed. He watched as the small blond roused in his sleep. He heard his heat beating loudly, as if the sound was being amplified by loudspeakers. Then, Draco's eyes opened slowly, revealing a pair of familiar silver-gray colored eyes.

Harry held his breath as he saw once again the silver orbs he loved so much to look at. But they were different - they weren't filled with the same love and passion that Harry once remembered seeing. They didn't seem to shine with happiness or joy as usual. They were cold, blank and emotionless.

Draco lifted a thin arm to rub his tired eyes. He let out a soft yawn, and streched, arms reaching towards the ceiling. He let his arms drop back beside his torso, and then yawned again.

He turned his head when he heard a series of stiffled sobs. His silver eyes widened when he saw a rather familiar face.

Draco's mouth opened; a horrible screech following suite.

He began to thrash around, arms flying, as he wailed. His eyes were wide with terror; terror that Harry only remembered seeing once, when his father broke into their house about four years ago.

"Draco!" Harry said, as the blond nearly slid off the bed. Harry, with his seeker reflexes, caught him before he fell to the ground.

When Draco noticed that he was in his arms, he shrieked, tears pouring down his flushed cheeks.

"Stop! P-please, d, don't hurt me." He sobbed, thrashing about in Harry's arms. "D-don't. Please! I d-don't want t, to get hurt again!" Harry felt his heart shatter. His voice was caught in his throat.

"I j, just want t-to see the real Har-Harry again..." Draco whispered, voice barely heard. "P-please... Don't h, hurt me."

"Oh God, Draco..." Harry said quietly. He hugged Draco's petite frame closer to his chest, and sobbed loudly, unable to stop himself.

"I'm so sorry." he whispered. "I'm never gonna leave you anymore. I promise you." he vowed, tears still falling.

But Draco didn't seem to hear him. All Harry was then able to hear, were the shrill cries coming from the blonde, who was clawing at Harry's chest, trying to get out of his arms.

Harry's face fell, and felt as if his heart was being put under the cruciatus curse. It hurt so much, the fact that the one he loved the most, namely Draco, didn't want to be near him. He knew that it made sense, after what he'd been through, but it still hurt. Harry choked back a sob, and loosened his grip around Draco, who immediately backed up clumsily and huddled towards the corner of the room, curled up in a small ball.

Draco was still screaming, fat tears streaming down his pale cheeks. Harry stared at him, feeling rather useless and very much guilty and ashamed. He never would have thought that this would happen if he left. He never thought that someone would try to hurt Draco, both mentally and physically like this. Harry wanted with all of his heart to go to Draco and pull him into his arms once more, and try to stop his screams and tears, but he knew that if he did do that, Draco might go crazy with fright, and never again want to see him for the rest of his life.

So Harry just sat there, on the cold, wooden floor, and stared at Draco. He watched him cry, and was faintly aware that he too, was crying. All he could think of was, _I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sorry Draco. I love you, _playing over and over again in his mind, like a broken tape recorder.

He barely heard the door open, and see Hermione rush over to the sobbing blonde, still huddled in the corner of the room, rocking himself back and forth, like a scared or mental child who was stricken with terror.

His vision soon became blurry, for some reason, which Harry thought was from the tears in his eyes. He didn't even bring up a hand to wipe them; He just sat there, watching the bushy-haired which coax Draco onto the bed, and then cast a sleeping spell on him.

_I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sorry Draco. I love you_

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TADAAA! Thtz it for chapter 3! X3

I'm so happy! I got so many hits :D Btw, thanx for all of the congratulations I've gotten from u readers about my graduation! thanx again! Oh, and if u think tht Harry's a bit of a wuss, always crying like that, then tell me, if it bothers you. (Doesnt bother me, though.)

Until next time!


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE! IMPORTANT!

June 25 2006

Hello, dear readers of my ficcie, YOU WILL LEAVE ME. I am very sorry that this isn't a real update (though I've already posted the awaited chapter 3 of YWLM) , but it is an author's note, and I have to tell you guys (and girls, of course XXD) that I am leaving for my summer vacation. I'm going to... DISNEY WORLD! (In Florida. Not California. XXD)

So I can't be updating until I come back, which is in July. So please, keep on reviewing so I'll feel motivated to write up a great forth chapter.

Until next time,

PhoenixTears (aka. Joelle)

PS. YAAAAAAAAY! 'TIS TEH SUMMER VACATIONZ! WHOOHOOO! ROCK ON PEOPLEZ!


	6. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns everything, except for this fanfic. (Yay! I actually own something :)**

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Hermione squeezed Harry's cold, limp hand gently, forcing a smile on her face. She only just managed to silence Draco's screaming, and put him into bed. The blonde was currently asleep, completely worn out from all of the thrashing about and yelling he was doing.

Harry's face was blank, his eyes puffy and red from crying. He stared blankly at the intricate designs of the carpet on the living room floor, face betraying what he was feeling inside. His heart still hurt, and he felt even more guilt-ridden than he did before seeing Draco again. He honestly didn't expect that kind of reaction. Harry knew that Draco wouldn't be the slightest bit happy to see him right now, but he believed, deep inside, that Draco would somehow know that it truely was him, and not just some phoney, look-alike, polyjuiced version of him. And he then knew that his beliefs were pretty pathetic and stupid.

"Harry?" Hermione said softly. The raven-haired boy turned his head and looked at her, and though his tired face was blank, his emerald eyes were shining with hurt, sadness and guilt (I love saying that word. :P). "Do you still want to go to Azkaban?"

He nodded weakly, and stood up from the couch. "Do we apparate there?" He asked weakly. Hermione too, stood up, and grabbed two cloaks that were hanging on the coak hangers. "Yeah. I mean, we can't floo there or anything, can we?" (A/U: I don't actually know HOW to get to Azkaban, so just pretend you DO need to apparate. XD)

Harry shrugged and took the long, midnight black cloak Hermione held out to him and put it on. Hermione did the same, again, and told him to put the hood on. Harry did so, not bothering to ask why, and stayed beside her.

"You ready?" She asked him, face slightly worried. Harry nodded, and forced a grin on his face. The witch held out her hand to him, and he took it, his hands still cold and clammy from earlier. And then, with a loud crack, the two disappeared into thin air.

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Once at Azkaban, Harry looked around him and shivered. It was dark, cold and creepy. The walls were made of dark bricks, and there was almost no lights in the prison, save for a few torches on the walls and the light coming from the small windows, which were pretty much only large, long holes in the walls. (A/U Bad description, I know, but I'm not too good at this kind of thing, so forgive my pathetic describing.)

Hermione let go of his hand, and motioned for him to follow her. He did so, and trailed behind her, a few steps behind, and could only stare at the mess on the concrete floor; rats were running about, fighting over the small scraps of food left there, and there were many puddles of water, which Harry expected to be there, since Azkaban _was _in the middle of the sea. The loud clicking noises of their heels on the floor was unnerving, and made Harry feel uncomfortable.

But despite that, he continued to follow Hermione (Not like he had any other chance) through a large beaten oak door, and then right up to the prison guards (Not demetors. Human guards.) who were standing guard before heavy iron bars hanging from the ceiling. The clicking noises stopped as they stood before the two guards, a few rats and mice scurrying across the floor, a few sniffing Hermione's shoes before running away again. The witch fidgeted around, uncomfortable, since she didn't like mice that much. (A/U: Fidgeted. Is that even a word?)

The two tall, bulky figures inspected them closely under hooded figures, just like Hermione did. She looked them up and down, wondering how tall they got.

The raven-haired boy didn't want to raise his head to see try and see them properly, so he hung his head, and looked at his feet, seeing as he had nothing else to stare at but the mice and rats running around, so he just chose to look at his shoes, which were clean, unlike the floor, which wasn't.

Then, the guard on the right held up a hand, preventing them from moving any further, but not that Harry felt like moving any further anymore. This place was giving him the creeps and he wasn't even here for more then five minutes.

"Halt," the large man said gruffly. "Who goes by?" Hermione removed her hood, and Harry did the same, face still pointed at the ground, though his eyes were looking up at the guard.

"Hermione Granger and Harry Potter," the witch said, a quiver in her usually confident and strong voice. Harry merely stood still, watching the two huge men with unwavering eyes. Harry somehow knew that the two huge, giant-like men raised their eyebrows at this, since he just remembered that only Hermione and, well, sort of Draco, knew he was back.

"Who do you wish to see?" The one on the left suddenly said, cutting off the other, who opened his mouth to speak. Hermione glanced at Harry, and quickly said something that the emerald-eyed boy didn't catch. The two bulky men grunted, and one said, " You have half an hour, an' no more then that." Hermione nodded, and took a step back as one of the prison guards lifted the iron bars with a spell, and then held it up for them to walk through.

"Make sure not to touch anything," The one of the left said as they walked past them. The other guard, however, went with the smaller witch and wizard, leading them to the prison cell. "Yes alright," Hermione said quickly, glancing back at the now lone prison guard.

Harry and Hermione walked silently behind the tall man before them, staring at the starved, nearly dead and pretty much mental prisoners in Azkaban with scared expressions. Hermione went a bit closer to Harry, eyes wide, and walked slightly faster.

After a few minutes of walking and seeing the tortured people behind the rusty bars, the guard stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to the cell on the right, and unlocked it, a few dementors a good ten feet from them, adding a chill to Harry's bones. "Here you are," The guard said. "Don't take too long now." Hermione shook her head. "We won't," she assured him, and then looked at Harry, eyes shining with many different emotions.

She motioned for him to go in front of the cell so he could see the man who raped Draco, and then Harry walked slowly, afraid of who he might find there. He was holding his breath, and once he was in front of it, his eyes widened immediately, paling at the sight.

"No..." He breathed, shaking his head. "It-- it can't be..."

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MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! THE SUSPENSE IS THICK!

Hullo again, dear readers, I hope you aren't sick of me yet. **Just to tell you, I AM STILL IN FLORIDA!**  
  
I am supposed to come back in a week or two, but seeing as we met one of my dad's friends over here, we went over to his place, and said that I could use his computer, so I decided to just write a small little suspense-filled chapter four, just to make a few of you happy. :)

I never planned any of this, as I didn't expect to be able to use a computer here, so I just quickly wrote this down in 10 minutes, so please, forgive any spelling errors, and the short chapter.

I hope you guys are (at least a little) happy, and I thought I'd write this just to get you warmed up for the awaited chapter five!

Happy summer, and hope you guys are having fun too,

Phoenix Tears331

btw, Thanks for all of your support. I can't believe that this fic is actually getting attention! Thanks very much, people!


	7. Chapter 5

Yay! I finally updated! XD

!Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and the rest of teh wonderful, and some, not so wonderful characters of the HP series. They all belong to J.K Rowling, as I am too young and not even close to good enough to have written the HP books.

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_She motioned for him to go in front of the cell so he could see the man who raped Draco, and then Harry walked slowly, afraid of whom he might find there. He was holding his breath, and once he was in front of it, his eyes widened immediately, paling at the sight._

_"No..." He breathed, shaking his head. "It-- it can't be..."_

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_----_

Harry stared at the boney, half-dead man laying on the floor before him, his gaunt, thin face looking up at Harry's shock-filled one.

Oliver Wood, his old Quidditch Captain and fellow Gryffindor looked up, his brown eyes locked with Harry's bright green ones. Emerald green eyes filled with disbelief, pain, and anger.

"I-- I don't -- No..." Harry whispered. "No, nonononononono..." He was feeling faint, his head swirling with many different emotions and feelings. Hermione was behind him, one hand on his shoulder, and glared at the man in the cell. Oliver saw this, and returned her glare with a malicious smile, showing his yellow, dirty teeth.

Harry heard the clacking of chains moving across the floor, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. "So, you're back, Potter," Oliver said hoarsely, sounding sort of happy at that. "I thought you'd never come back to see your precious little..." he paused, looking for the right word to use."...Dragon." Harry snapped his eyes open, and looked at the ex-Quidditch player in disbelief.

"Oliver? How--how could you..." Harry trailed off, his vision starting to get blurry. He heard a loud cackle echoing off the walls of the near-empty cell, resonating in the long hallway. "How could I, you ask? Well, how could I not?" Oliver sat up, leaning on the cold brick wall for support, since he was too weak to support himself.

"I always liked you, Harry. Ever since I laid my eyes on you at Hogwarts," The older man said. Harry simply stood there, staring blankly at him. He didn't know how to react. "You had everything-- looks, fame, Quidditch skills, money-- what else could anyone ask for? I watched you every day, all the time. I would even sneak into your dorm at night just to be able to see you closely."

Harry felt a churning feeling in his guts. How could he have missed that? How could he have missed the fact that Oliver was obsessed with him? He looked at the skeletal-like man with painful eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, though. Harry stood there, unblinking, simply watching Oliver ramble on and on, about his obsession with him-- his infatuation. He wanted to scream, to tell Oliver to shut up, and leave, wanting to go back to the Manor and see Draco again, even though he knew that the blonde would probably throw another fit, and go crazy again. He simply wanted to leave.

"But then," Wood started, "at the end of my seventh year, I had to leave Hogwarts. I didn't want to, since I wouldn't be able to talk to you anymore-- to see you." Oliver was acting like a crazy obsessed teenager. Hermione turned her head and looked away. She didn't want to see him, let alone hear him. She couldn't stand him anymore.

Oliver was mad. He was mental and crazy. Hermione wanted to just curse him, watch him writhe in pain for what he did to Harry and to Draco... especially Draco. She wanted Oliver-- no, Wood-- to suffer. She wanted Harry to hurt him, she wanted Ron to hurt him-- she wanted anyone who was affected by what he did to both Harry and Draco to hurt him.

Hermione felt.. strange, thinking of the pain and torture that could be inflicted on Wood. She didn't think she was capable of hating someone as much as this. She hated him more then she did Voldemort, which she never in a million years would have thought possible.

"I never fell in love, after I left the school. I waited for you to graduate, and then I planned to ask you out on a date in hopes of being in a romantic relationship with you. I waited, day after day after day for years, but still, I waited patiently.

"But then, when I heard that you and Draco Malfoy," he spat the name out, as if disgusted by it. "Were going out, I was devastated. The Daily Prophet wrote about it, and even showed photos of you two together. I hated it." Oliver looked down, voice angry. "The news alone made me want to kill myself, but I didn't. I thought that you would eventually break up with him, so then, I waited once more." He took a deep breath. "When I found out that you moved in with him, that's when I went hysterical. I wanted so very much to murder that little blonde pest," he said through gritted teeth, fists clenched.

Harry was glaring daggers through the old Quidditch player's forehead, his hands curling into tight balls. His teeth were gritted in anger, and already he felt like murdering Wood, as much as he didn't want to believe it. _Hermione was right_, he realized. _I wouldn't have believed it unless I saw it._

"I was desperate to have you, Harry, so very desperate." Oliver looked at him through unreadable brown eyes. "So then, unable to do anything about it, I went to the dark Lord. He said that he could, how should I put it," he paused. "Distract you while I had my revenge with your little Dragon," He finished with a sneer.

"You're sick, Wood!" Hermione then cried out. Her eyes were glossy and looked like she was about to cry. "You nearly killed Harry in the process, just so you can have your way with Draco! You're insane!"

Wood rolled his eyes. "Do you think I didn't know that already?" He asked her. "Did you think I didn't _know _that, Granger?" Hermione backed up, for some reason frightened by him. She knew she didn't have to, seeing as he was still chained up to the wall, had no wand, and was too weak to do anything, but Wood was scaring her, and she didn't like it.

"If you did then why'd you do it!" said Harry, finally finding words to say. His fists were clenched so hard that the skin on his hand was starting to bleed a little. The guard standing beside Harry merely stared off into space, and looked as if he barely noticed them shouting.

The other prisoners merely watched the trio through watchful eyes, keeping quiet in their cells. Some of them kept their eyes away, while some-- the dying ones-- stayed sprawled out on the ground, staring at the concrete walls with blank, almost lifeless eyes.

Oliver glared at the brunette. He thought that he would understand right away, why he did it." I did it so that you would understand the pain _I _went though, Harry." Oliver made a move to stand up, but the shackles were too heavy, and he was too weak and thin to support himself. "And I knew that you could've died during the process, but I didn't care. If I couldn't have you, well then, it was better if no one else could.

But I knew that you would live," Wood said. "You wouldn't die, since you would have wanted to come back to Malfoy as soon as possible."

"Damn straight I would," Harry said through gritted teeth. "And not even you _or_ Voldemort could have stopped me."

The man in the cell looked like he was going to piss himself--or worse, shit himself. His lips were pursed tightly, resembling aunt Petunia, and he was frowning.

"Yes, well, even if you did live, which I knew you would, I wanted you to feel my pain, Harry." Oliver moved closer to Harry and Hermione with a little difficulty, and then looked up, his eyes locked with Harry's bright green ones. "I wanted you to suffer," he paused on that one word, as if wondering what he should say next. "And the best way I could think of, was to have my way with your little whore," he spat.

"Take that back," Harry hissed, glaring at Oliver, who merely raised his eyebrows. He looked amused.

"Take what back, dear Harry?" he asked him, smirking. Oliver looked like he was having fun, torturing Harry by telling him what he did and by insulting Draco.

"Draco's not a whore," said Harry, his voice dangerously low. "Take it back."

Hermione could even feel a slight crackle of magic in the air, and flinched when she felt it. She reckoned that even Wood could feel it; it was sort of impossible not to, though. Despite it only being a small crackle of magic, it was still impossibly strong. The witch could feel Harry's anger building up from where she was.

"I won't take it back, Harry dear," Oliver sneered. "I am right, after all. Your little blond bitch is a whore."

"SHUT UP!" Harry suddenly screamed. He took a few steps forward, looking down at the man in front of him. He refused to believe that Oliver Wood was human. Harry whipped his wand out of his cloak, and pointed it at Wood's throat, his wand hand shaking with anger and he clutched the long piece of wood tightly. Oliver didn't even flinch.

"Do you really think that I would be afraid of that, dearest Harry?" He drawled, seemingly amused. He was smirking. "Go on then," Oliver said, he lifted his thin arms in the air, wavering slightly as his two upper limbs left the floor, slightly losing his balance. "kill me, Harry. Torture me." His brown eyes glinted maliciously.

Harry didn't do anything yet. Hermione, who went closer too, placed her hand on his shoulder and stared at Wood. She was thinking, _'Come on, Harry. Just do something--anything. Please.' _But realized that he wouldn't be able to, seeing as the guards would probably contact the Minister for Magic and hold a trial or something against him for attacking a defenseless prisoner. She then was begging him silently to not do anything and lower his wand, and hoped he would do so.

Oliver let out a loud cackle. "What's wrong, Harry? You won't kill me then?" Harry bit his lip. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to use the sectumsempra on Wood, but thought that Wood probably didn't have enough blood to make his perverse, torture-filled scenario of Draco's rapist look so evil.

"Looks like you don't even love your little bleached blonde bitch enough to kill the one who raped him, even if said rapist is sitting right in front of you with his hands in the air like a pathetic little muggle," Oliver sneered.

At those words, Harry saw red. He dropped his wand, and with an angry yell, pinned Oliver down onto the cold, dirty ground, even forgetting the rats that ran by him; their dirty, scruffy fur nearly touching his hands.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He yelled angrily. "Draco's not a bitch, and I do love him, more then you'll ever know, bastard!" Oliver let out another loud cackle, and looked at Harry.

"If you do love the whore, then why are you on top of me, on the ground of a dirty, rotten prison or evil little men like me, eh, Harry?" He drawled. "Though when I used to picture this in my mind, I was the one on to--" He wasn't able to finish the word, from the force of a punch Harry threw at him.

He flinched at the slight pain, and could even taste the metallic-flavored red liquid in his mouth. He didn't know that Harry could hit so hard. After spitting the blood out, he laughed loudly, a note of hysteria in his hoarse voice.

"Malfoy's a dead lucky son of a bitch to be fucked by someone like you every night!" He cackled. "He was probably only and will ever be your little fuck buddy, right, Harry?" Before he could say another word, he was hit, once again, by Harry, this time on the other cheek.

Oliver just kept laughing like a madman, just as Harry was yelling insults and curses at him, tears already blurring his vision. Hermione was staring at the two in shock, not knowing if she should tell Harry to stop, and pull him off of the disgusting man lying on the floor.

Despite her better judgment, she liked hearing the sound of Harry's fist meeting Wood's face, however faint it was, because of the loud noises the two men were making; the insufferable cackling of Wood, and the angry yells Harry was making.

"I wonder how Draco fucking Malfoy can--" He was stopped in mid sentence with another punch, this one stronger then the others; he let out a pained hiss this time, much to Harry's sick pleasure. Wood turned his head and faced Harry again. " ...stay so fucking tight if you're doing him all the time, eh, Harry? I won--"

"JUST SHUT UP, DAMMIT!" Harry yelled, even louder then before.

He just kept punching and punching him, he was too into what he was doing, that he couldn't even hear Hermione yelling for him to stop, nor notice the fact that Wood wasn't responding to the blows to the face (And some to the stomach) anymore; he was limp under Harry's bigger form, blood sprouting from his face. Harry simply balled his fists, and continued to pound his face, tears finally falling free from his eyes.

"Harry!" He finally heard, and he suddenly stopped what he was doing. He couldn't breathe anymore. He just stared at the bloody, slightly mangled face of what was left of Oliver Wood, with some horror. His jaw dropped, and he looked at his hands, which were red with the blood from Wood's face. Harry let out a horrified yell, and backed up, jumping off of the now dead body he was sitting on.

"Oy! What do you two think you're doing!" The prisoner guard called out, finally showing signs of life, other then just staring at the walls blankly and pretending that no one was there. "Get over here, you scoundrels!"

Hermione quickly took hold of Harry's arm, and yanked him up. She pushed him out of the cell, and took one last glance at Wood, and resisted, with some difficulty, the urge to spit on him. She pulled the now sobbing Harry onto his feet, and ran, still holding his arm tightly. Harry was simply following her, and she didn't think that he even knew why they were running. The brunette just ran behind the bushy-haired witch, right past the guard, who tried to grab them, but couldn't.

"Faster, Harry!" Hermione cried. "He's gonna catch us!" She was running franticly, her breathing erratic, the jail cells turning into blurs as she zoomed past them, Harry close behind her, still crying. She could hear the angry yells of the Azkaban prison guard, who was running towards them with an incredible speed for his large, tubby form.

As they were getting close to the entry of the prison, Harry, still dragged by Hermione, shuddered violently, and felt cold. He looked back, and saw a whole pack of dementors, and estimated that there were about three dozen of them. He knew Hermione felt them too, for she slowed down a little, and her hand, which was wrapped around his wrist, was trembling and cold.

The other huge guard who decided to stand watch before the iron bars looked back from the noise, arms crossed. Harry and Hermione tried as much as they could to run faster and outrun the dementors, and passed the first guard, who didn't actually know what was happening. Once they were on the long, thin hallway leading to the prison entry, the two wizards (Witch, for Hermione) looked back and quickly, before the dementors and the two guards could get closer to them, apparated back to manor.

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With a loud crack, the two landed in a heap on a black rug in the sitting room of the manor. Hermione sat up and took her cloak off of her and threw it on the floor. Harry remained crouched down, staring at his hands, which were again, tainted with the crimson of Oliver Wood's blood.

Hermione could still hear him sobbing, so she crawled over to him and embraced him in a gentle hug. Harry buried his face in her shirt, but left his hands on his lap, not wanting to dirty her clothes. The witch rubbed comforting circles in his back, muttering things in his ear like, "It's not your fault, Harry," or "Don't cry, he deserved it."

But all the brunette could say back, was, "It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault..." over and over again, nonstop, as if it were his mantra. Hermione too, could feel her eyes welling up with tears, but never knew why.

She simply hugged him all the tighter, and closed her eyes, feeling the wetness of tears falling down her cheeks and into Harry's soft hair.

Neither of them noticed the tall, familiar red-head watching them from the hallway, with a look of confusion, as they were too busy crying.

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:D Yay! I finished writing the 5th chappie! Sorry if you found it took so long. My gran just died, and we never knew until we came back from Florida. I just couldn't think up of anything to write, because all I was thinking of was her. :(

And also, our car got totaled by this idiot who was drunk driving. No one got hurt, though, but the car got destroyed in the front.

So please, review, and hope that the next chapter will come faster, and hopefully longer then this one! (I did write a longer chap, though, if you compare it with the others. )

Review, just to make me happy :)


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